


The Penis Mightier

by luckie_dee



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 13:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckie_dee/pseuds/luckie_dee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill. Anon prompted: <i>brooch prick.</i> Well, when I first read this prompt, I first thought of sweet early relationship fic, with one of them tending to the other after an unfortunate incident with Kurt’s hippo-head brooch. But then I started thinking about the slang definition of the word “prick,” and, well. This happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Penis Mightier

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for crack.

Kurt finished checking himself over in the mirror one last time, swung his satchel over his shoulder, and strode confidently for the doorway of his bedroom, where he practically collided with Blaine. “Oh!” he exclaimed in surprise.  
  
Blaine reeled away for a moment, startled, before leaning back into his momentum to press a minty kiss firmly on Kurt’s mouth. “Good morning,” he said, all glittering eyes and happy smile close to Kurt’s face.  
  
“Good morning,” Kurt replied, returning the kiss with one of his own before disengaging a bit. “I thought I heard a car door slam.”  
  
“Carole told me to come up,” Blaine explained, his eyes drifting down to Kurt’s chest. A faint crease appeared on his brow.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You know I love your clothes –”  
  
“For your sake, I hope that’s the end of that thought,” Kurt interjected, arching an eyebrow.  
  
Blaine nodded and took a slow breath. “Is that a new brooch?” he tried instead.  
  
“This?” Kurt glanced down at the pin. “Yes. It just came yesterday. It’s supposed to be a rapier – the description  _clearly_  said rapier – but I think it looks more like a dagger.”  
  
“A dagger,” Blaine said. “Right.”  
  
Kurt frowned, his hands coming up to clench defensively around the strap of his bag. “I thought you would like it. You know, because of your fencing.”  
  
“I  _do_ like it.”  
  
“But?”  
  
“Well…” Blaine paused for a moment, his eyes darting up to Kurt’s before they settled back on the brooch. “It’s a little – phallic, isn’t it? Especially with those beads?”  
  
Kurt craned his head down and pursed his lips. “I was a little afraid of that. Does it look that bad?”  
  
“It’s not  _bad_ , necessarily.”  
  
“But you thought of it.”  
  
Blaine nodded.  
  
“Kind of right away,” Kurt pointed out.  
  
“Are you implying that I have a one-track mind?” Blaine asked. He tilted his head playfully.  
  
Kurt tried to fight his smile, but he felt one corner of his mouth curl up anyway. “Well, you may have been a little preoccupied lately.”  
  
“If that’s true, it’s only because you’re  _preoccupying_ ,” Blaine said, his voice dropping in timbre as he swayed back into Kurt’s space, running a hand along his hip and letting his mouth touch the hinge of Kurt’s jaw.  
  
Kurt hummed. “Do you hear me complaining?”  
  
“No,” Blaine mumbled into his skin, kissing him once before Kurt moved him lightly away.  
  
“Carole’s still home,” he said regretfully.  
  
Blaine sighed, but smiled at him all the same. “Okay. Are you ready to go?”  
  
“I was, but now I’m not sure. Maybe I should just wear something else,” he said, grimacing down at the brooch. “Of course, then I’d have to change. This shirt is too plain to go without an accessory, but I’m not comfortable wearing these boots with any of my other pins. Maybe a scarf? Or a jacket?”  
  
Worry started to bloom over Blaine’s features. “Well… if we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late for coffee with Mike and Tina.”  
  
Kurt hovered at the threshold to his room, his eyes flickering between the pin and his closet. “We should probably just go,” he said finally, his voice uncertain.  
  
“Probably no one will even notice,” Blaine reassured him.  
  
“Yeah,” Kurt said. “Maybe.”  
  
For a while, Blaine’s prediction held true. Kurt got a few odd looks in the hallway, but he definitely wasn’t a stranger to either receiving or ignoring them, so he lifted his head and walked on. He ate lunch with Mercedes so that they could plan a joint history project, and although it seemed like she wanted to say something, she settled on complimenting his fashion sense instead.  
  
And then it came time for Glee.  
  
As luck (or misfortune) would have it, Rachel, Finn, Brittany, and Santana were lined up in the front row of the choir room, so Kurt had a clear view of the exact moment when Santana’s eyes zeroed in on the brooch and narrowed. Instinctively, he steeled himself. “So, was it arts and crafts time at Camp Baby Gay?” she asked, tilting her head. “Did you model it after anyone we know?” Her eyes slid over to Blaine. “Is it to scale?”  
  
Kurt saw Blaine’s eyes widen in the corner of his vision, and he started to sputter. “First of all, I didn’t make it. And it’s not a –  _that_.”  
  
Santana looked unimpressed. “If you can’t even say the word, then I guess you don’t know the answer. Sorry, Blanderson. Dare to dream.”  
  
With a huff, Kurt climbed around her seat and into the second row of chairs, Blaine trailing behind him. He left an empty seat between himself and Puck, who pointed to his chest and asked, “How come Hummel gets to wear a pin with a dick on it, but I get sent home to change every time I wear a t-shirt with a picture of boobs?”  
  
“Because Kurt’s pin is  _tasteful_ , Noah!” Rachel snapped, spinning around in her seat.  
  
“Rachel!” Kurt gasped. “ _That’s not what it is_.”  
  
Rachel patted his knee in a gesture that was probably supposed to be reassuring, but mostly just made him feel like jerking his leg away. “It’s okay, Kurt,” she said. “Not all representations of genitalia are vulgar. It’s like Michelangelo’s  _David_.”  
  
“Michelangelo’s…  _David_ …” Kurt muttered faintly, shaking his head as Santana leaned forward in her chair to arch an eyebrow at Rachel.  
  
“Wow, Berry, you must be a tiger in the sack,” she deadpanned. “Tell us, Finn, is she a tiger in the sack?”  
  
Rachel whirled back around to scowl at her. “Has anyone ever accused you of being obsessed with sex, Santana?”  
  
“Everyone’s obsessed with sex. I’m just not afraid to talk about it. It’s better than being so repressed that I don’t realize I’m wearing a penis pin.” She leaned back and fished a nail file out of her bag.  
  
“It is  _not_ a penis!” Kurt exclaimed, feeling his face heat at the word. “It’s a rapier!”  
  
“Dude!” Finn said, twisting around to give Kurt a surprised look. “You  _just said_ it isn’t a dick.”  
  
Kurt made a frustrated noise and buried his face in his hands. Almost instantly, he felt the soothing sweep of Blaine’s hand between his shoulder blades. “A rapier is a fencing sword, Finn,” Blaine explained, his voice patient.  
  
“I don’t think it looks like a sword,” Brittany piped up.  
  
“No one does, Britt,” Santana said.  
  
“I think it looks like a carrot.”  
  
Kurt peeked out from between his fingers. “Okay. I’m willing to work with that interpretation.”  
  
“A boy carrot,” Brittany added.  
  
“That’s it; I’m taking it off.” Kurt began to fumble with the brooch, but the soft touch of Blaine’s fingers to the back of his hand stopped him.  
  
He shot his boyfriend an annoyed look, but Blaine just seemed concerned. “Kurt, don’t let them bother you,” he said quietly.  
  
“No!” Puck protested loudly. “He should have to take it off. And if he doesn’t, I’m getting my Three Boob Moon shirt out of my locker.”  
  
“That shirt is just weird, Puckerman,” Rachel said, directing her glare back at him.  
  
“Why? Is it not  _artistic_ enough for you?”  
  
As Puck and Rachel continued to squabble – Finn jumping in awkwardly to defend his fiancee – Kurt turned back to meet Blaine’s concerned gaze. “Blaine, just let me take it off.”  
  
“You should, Anderson,” Santana interjected, not even bothering to turn from her nails. “It’ll probably be the closest you’ll ever get to seeing him naked. Just try not to pop a tiny, sword-shaped boner.”  
  
“It’s not t–“ Kurt snapped, before cutting himself off abruptly.  
  
That got Santana’s attention. “Not what?” she asked archly, craning her neck back to look at him, her eyes sparking.  
  
“Sword-shaped, I’m sure,” Kurt improvised, trying to will the flush from his cheeks.  
  
“Riiiiiight,” she drawled.  
  
“Santana, can you please just leave us alone for a few minutes?” Blaine asked, frustration starting to bleed into his voice.  
  
“Wow, those are strong words coming from you. I’m shaking in my standard-issue athletic socks.”  
  
It was at that moment – with Puck, Rachel, and Finn bickering noisily while Blaine and Santana glared daggers at each other – that Mr. Schue chose to burst into the choir room. “Hey guys! Sorry I’m a few minutes la – what’s going on?”  
  
“Tell Hummel to take off his dick pin, otherwise I’m putting on a boob shirt!” Puck burst out.  
  
“Mr. Schuester,” Rachel said, “it appears that  _some people_ are uncomfortable with the way Kurt has chosen to express his sexual identity –”  
  
“Kurt’s favorite Ken doll threatened to make me sit in the corner and think about what I’ve done,” Santana interrupted, speaking loudly over Rachel’s shrill rambling.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Mr. Schuester held up his hands, and eventually the room lapsed into silence. He shook his head a little as if to clear it. “Okay, Kurt, what’s going on?”  
  
Kurt sighed. “It seems like people are upset about my new brooch.”  
  
Mr. Schuester eyed the pin speculatively for a moment, before saying, “Maybe it would be best if you just put it in your bag for now. Okay, Rory, I believe you have something ready for us today?”  
  
Frowning, Kurt unclasped the back of the brooch. He paused, staring at it, before angrily snapping it back into place and shooting his hand up. “Mr. Schuester, if I may?”  
  
“Yes, Kurt?” he asked warily.  
  
Kurt jumped to his feet, straightening his spine. “You’ve always promoted the choir room and Glee Club as a place where we could express ourselves without fear of judgment. Usually, that means through song, but fashion is another lens that we use to express ourselves to the world. Today, I chose to express myself by wearing this brooch, and whether others see it as a sword or as” – he couldn’t say the word  _penis_ in front of Mr. Schue, he just  _couldn’t_  – “something else, asking me to remove it would be no different than refusing to let me sing.”  
  
With a long-suffering sigh, Mr. Schuester motioned for him to sit back down. “Fine, Kurt. Just – make sure you’re giving some thought to what you’re saying to the world, okay? Rory, you’re up.”  
  
Kurt dropped back into his chair, rolling his eyes at being on the receiving and of another one of Mr. Schuester’s pearls of wisdom, when he caught sight of Blaine staring at him, a bit wide-eyed. “What?” he mouthed, trying not to distract from Rory singing another homesick ballad.  
  
“That was kind of hot,” Blaine whispered.  
  
“It was?”  
  
“Mm-hmm.” He scooted a little closer. “How late is your dad going to be at the garage tonight?”  
  
“No later than usual, I don’t think,” Kurt replied, feigning innocence. “Why?”  
  
He jumped slightly when he felt the tips of Blaine’s fingertips on his wrist. “Well, maybe I can come home with you and we can –  _cross swords_.”  
  
“Oh my god,” Kurt snorted, as Santana angled back toward them, her lips already curving around the letter  _w._ “Don’t even say it!” Kurt hissed, pointing at her severely.  
  
Santana regarded him for a moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just going to say ‘way to go, boys.’”  
  
Kurt gave a little disbelieving hum.  
  
She shrugged. “Let me know if you want any blow job tips. Lord knows I don’t need them anymore.”  
  
“I think we’re doing fine. But duly noted,” Kurt snapped, but he didn’t manage to get the words out without blushing again.  
  
Santana’s eyebrows arched, and she gave him an approving look before turning back to the front of the room.  
  
Kurt glanced back at Blaine to find his eyes a little wider and a little darker than before. He stifled a giggle, and then whispered “ _en garde_ ” with a wink.


End file.
